


A Cold Winter’s Night

by SophiaCatherine



Series: Coldwave Winter Week 2018 [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, F/M, Lewis Snart's A+ Parenting, M/M, myths and legends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 17:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17084891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaCatherine/pseuds/SophiaCatherine
Summary: A Winter Solstice myth, retold.When Cold, the son of the Winter King, finds out that the Sun King has abducted his sister, he makes a plan to get her back. But when Cold’s father gets in the way, he needs an unlikely rescue from someone from the Summer kingdom...





	A Cold Winter’s Night

**Author's Note:**

> For Coldwave Winter Week 2018. Day 4: Myths and Legends. ‘Extra’: seasonal myths.
> 
> Happy Winter Solstice! Here’s a story _very_ loosely inspired by seasonal myths of the Wild Hunt. Reinterpreted… quite a lot… 
> 
> (There’s a cast of characters at the end, showing which mythical characters inspired which fandom interpretations.)

In the Great Hall of the Winter kingdom, Cold slammed his hands down on the table in front of him. He aimed an icy glare at Shawna. “He took my sister from her bed! He _abducted_ her!”

Lounging in the chair opposite, Shawna gave him a sharp-toothed smile. “You sure about that? I hear the Sun King is in love, boss. I reckon Lisa went of her own free will.” She shrugged. “And anyway, what are you gonna do about it?” 

“My father will have a fit,” Cold muttered, sagging into the massive oak chair behind him.

For six long months out of every year, Lewis, the Winter King, ruled the world with a fist of iron and frost. His rule brought nothing but suffering. And not just for the kingdom. 

His children weren’t fond of him either.

More and more as the years went on, it was Cold, the king’s son, who was left to do most of the work of running Winter, as he fought not to let it run out of control on the earth above them. Better his father sleep off the season in a drunken stupor, than let loose in a violent rage of blizzards, ice storms and death. Cold—Len to his friends, few though they were—was quite capable of keeping Winter in order. But he couldn’t always keep the king from waking up and visiting more chaos on an already-dying world. Cold… regretted that.

He tried to help, in secret. When whole villages lost generations of parents to Winter storms, with no one left to care for the orphans, Cold would slip in during the night and leave gifts of food. When Winter came early and crops failed, all for his father’s cruel mismanagement of the season, Cold would hold back the ice and save what he could. He was a Winter god too, after all. But he only had as much power as his father allowed him.

“You’re missing the point, son,” his father would tell him, over and over, as though he didn’t remember the last time—and, what with being drunk again, he probably didn’t. “The point is to teach them how to survive. It’s always gonna get cold. Not our fault if they ain’t prepared.” Glaring at his son, he would add, “Don’t get soft about it. Humans are worse than rats. Few hundred dead in a storm ain’t a tragedy.”

Cold would listen without a word. The chill would run down his arms as he subdued the ice storms within his shaking fists. Every time.

He could handle his father. But his sister Lisa was young and tempestuous, and her cold resentment had turned to burning fury. She spent hours looking up at the earth, in her golden magic mirror, and she saw that it was harder and harder for the people to recover from famine and frost. She would scream at her father that he was killing the world, more every year. When the Winter King’s face darkened with rage at his upstart daughter, Len would try to step between his sister and his father. But he was powerless to stop it when the king raised his hand and froze her into a statue of ice. 

The Winter King would leave his daughter outside the palace gates for the people to gaze upon, serving as nothing but a lesson to them. Len would sit out in the cold with his sister, all day and all night, until she could move again. Every time.

If she had really fallen in love with someone who ruled a kingdom of light and life, could Len blame her?

Cold looked up at Shawna, his eyes showing the ice in his soul. “I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do about it. Tonight, I lead the Wild Hunt into battle. We’re gonna win her back.”

Shawna blinked skittish eyes at him. “It’s January, not the Winter Solstice. And that’s your father’s job. He’ll kill you.”

On Winter Solstice night, the warriors of Winter rode out on ghostly horses with the Wild Hunt to meet the Sun King in battle. Every Winter Solstice his father came home, having lost to the Sun King, and so Spring soon came. And every Midsummer, he rode out again, and won the right to rule the coming Winter. So it had been, for as long as Len could remember.

But Len had heard older tales, told on long, dark nights, when the oldest Winter courtiers shared faded memories. There was, they said, a time when the Wild Hunt rode out every night from October to May Day. They rode with the dead to their final resting place, and they kept watch over the world. Long ago, when Winters were shorter. Before his father had become cruel, and opened a fist of iron and frost across the world. _Now_ , the old men said, _the_ _Winter_ _King_ _refuses_ _to_ _ride_ _out_ _with_ _the_ _Hunt_ _except_ _when_ _he_ _must_ , _on_ _the_ _Solstice_. _Now_ _all_ _he_ _wants_ _is_ _to_ _get_ _drunk_ _with_ _his_ _favorite_ _courtiers_ _and_ _sleep_   _away a harsh_ _Winter_.

Cold had never really believed those old tales, but at least they would give him an excuse when his father found out that his son had ridden out with the Wild Hunt. Shawna was right—Lewis wouldn’t stand for this.

“I’ll get the old fool drunk,” he said. “It’ll hardly be a difficult task. He won’t even notice we’re gone.” 

“Yeah, but boss—”

Len raised a commanding eyebrow at her. “Are you going to help me, or are you going to stand there gaping? Gather the Rogues. Tonight we get to do what we’ve always wanted to. We lead the Wild Hunt.”

Shawna laughed. “Us? You do remember the Rogues, Len? Rag-tag bunch of loafers? We’re no leaders of Winter armies. We’re not up to that.”

“Oh, we are,” Len insisted, his voice firm.

His Rogues were well known as the bad seeds of the Winter court. His father regularly reminded him how disappointed he was that his son squandered his time with wastrels. But Len knew what his Rogues were worth, undisciplined though they were. The Winter courtiers were fae, and the Rogues were most powerful among them. One who could control the weather. One who played a pipe that could lull people into a sleep like death. Another who could make the world spin and bring armies to their knees. Still another with demon eyes that sent people into a frenzy. Not to mention his sister Lisa, who could turn things to gold at will. And Shawna, here, his most loyal servant and friend, who could disappear and reappear anywhere, as she chose.

And then there was Len himself, who could raise a hand and freeze the world, like his father—if only on a much smaller scale. He wouldn’t have dared try anything more.

They were a useful bunch. And Len was the only one who could keep them in line. 

“Gather the Rogues,” he insisted again.

Shawna nodded and blinked away into the ether.

Len put his head in his hands. “They can’t have you, Lisa,” he muttered. “You can’t leave me alone here.”

* * *

The boy riding in on the white horse ahead of him didn’t look _nearly_ old enough to be the Sun King. He had a beautiful face, shining with sunlight. Long, elegant curls ran down his back.

Cold cast an eye across the Sun King’s mounted troops. Where the Wild Hunt were seated on dark, spectral horses, the Sun King’s cavalry rode horses white and bright as solar fire.

But Len was looking for a horse of a different color, one he had seen in the Sun King’s cavalry before, with a rider he had watched many times before. And there the horse was, on the edge of the first line of troops. It was a ruddy brown, and on it sat—

Len had to pull back on the reins so he could take a breath. If the Sun King was beautiful, this wonderful rider was _captivating_. He was a big man, but probably not much older than his king. His eyes were downcast, but Len didn’t look away, and at last the other rider raised them to look at Len.

And Len saw fire in his eyes. 

Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from the rider. The Sun King was speaking, smiling in delight at the sight of Len. “You’re not the Winter King!” He was laughing, but not unkindly. “You must be Cold. What, your father couldn’t be bothered to ride out to get his daughter back?”

He wasn’t far wrong, but Len wasn’t admitting that to this boy. “My father trusts me with many things,” Len lied, with a smirk. “You have something that belongs to the Winter Kingdom. We want her back.”

And there she was, seated behind him on his horse, clinging to her Sun King. Lisa looked so… happy.

She grinned when she saw Len. “Hello, brother dear. You’re sweet to come and rescue me, but I really don’t need it.” She squeezed the Sun King tighter. “I ran away with Cisco here because I wanted to, you know.”

 “You left,” Len said, and his voice was defeated.

Lisa’s face turned sad, an expression Len was more used to seeing there. “I couldn’t stay,” she said softly, her eyes bright with regret. She patted the Sun King on the back, smiling again. “I love him.”

Len shook his head. “You don’t belong with him, Lisa. You’re royalty of the Winter kingdom. If you stay in the Summer kingdom, you could die.” He turned an icy glare on the Sun King. “She comes home with us. _Now_.”

The Sun King—Cisco—turned to Lisa, his smile devoted. “Do you want to stay with me, or go back to your father’s house?”

Her eyes flashed gold, and she laughed. “I never want to see that old bastard again. I am yours.”

“Forever?” he pressed. Len liked his idea of consent, at least.

She giggled, throwing back her head in a rain of golden curls. “For now. Ask me again when the season changes.” 

“What the lady wants, the lady gets,” Cisco declared, lifting her hand to his lips. He turned his horse, his court turning with him, like a flock of birds in flight. “We will meet again on the battlefield at May Day, and then her fate will be decided,” he called back.

Len frowned. “The Wild Hunt rides out to meet the Sun King at Midwinter and Midsummer. Not on May Day.”

“I think it’s about time for some changes, don’t you?” Cisco called back, over the noise of his troops galloping away.

The sole rider Len had been watching, the big man with fire in his eyes, had not turned his horse around. He was staring at Len.

Len’s horse trotted up to him, until they were face to face. “What’s your name?” Len asked. His voice, he noticed, lacked its usual cold drawl.

 “I’m Mick,” the servant of the Sun King said. “They call you... Cold?”

 “Yes.” Len smiled. “But you can call me Len.” Then he pulled on his horse’s reins and turned around. Looking back over his shoulder as he rode away, he called back, “See you on May Day.”

He was rewarded with a glimpse of a warm smile.

* * *

“You let him do _what_ with _my_ daughter?” King Lewis yelled, right up in Len’s face.

Len blinked, trying not to scowl at his father. “I didn’t _let_ her do anything. Apparently, she decided of her own free will to run away with him.”

“ _My_ daughter!” Lewis screeched again. 

Len went to put his hands over his ears, and thought better of it, just in time. “Lisa can make her own decisions. She’s not your property.”

“That’s exactly what she is,” the king growled. 

Len stared at the floor, but the ice he was expecting never came. His father moved away instead, shaking his head. “May Day,” he was muttering. “Fine. I’ll kill ‘em all. Every last one of them.” 

Len’s fists were clenched and shaking, but he kept them at his sides. He thought of the other fae armies that his father’s Wild Hunt had decimated. He didn’t doubt that he would do it. 

He thought of Mick, the servant of the Sun King with the fire in his eyes.

* * *

And for four months, he couldn’t get that man out of his head.

 They were in the court gardens one day, and Len found himself talking about him again. His Rogues were getting tired of hearing about Mick, not that he really cared what they thought.

“Yes, yes, we’ve heard about how strong and beautiful he is,” Piper said. “And about the fire in his eyes. Can you find a new topic to obsess about?” He picked up his pipe and played a couple of warning notes at Len, who scowled at him.

“Shut up, Piper,” Len growled. Weather Wizard looked like he was about to say something as well. “You too, Mardon.” Mardon glared, but curled up and began dozing. Len sighed, leaning back against the wall.

His father’s powers covered the Winter kingdom with a dusting of snow, whatever time of year it was in the earth above them. Len breathed out slowly, the air turning cloudy before him. He appreciated the chill, the beauty of the frost on the ground, the stillness in the air.

He did _not_ like Summer, the season that burned like fire.

He couldn’t be in love with a Sun King’s courtier. It would only lead to disaster. He blew out a hard sigh, ice crystals forming in the air around him. “We’re totally incompatible.”

“Oh, for Arianrhod’s sake, shut up about him, Cold,” Piper snapped.

Len sat forward, raising a frosty hand in warning. It was one of his rules that the Rogues didn’t use their powers on each other, but too often they made him think about breaking that rule. Piper grinned at him and raised his pipe in a warning to match Len’s. Len gave up and shook his head, leaning back against the wall again.

“Also,” Shawna added helpfully, “you’ve only seen him once. How are you so sure you’re in love?”

Len thought about a hundred Winters—or was it closer to a thousand?—that he had ridden into battle with the Wild Hunt, led by his father, and had faced the Sun King’s cavalry. “I’ve seen him many times before that. And... I’m just sure.” He looked from Shawna to Mardon, and back again. “How did you know?” he asked his friend.

She grinned and patted Mardon on the back. He opened one eye, frowned, and went back to sleep. “I couldn’t stop thinking about him.” She frowned in concern at Len. “But we were both Winter courtiers. No one objected.” 

“Objected,” Len repeated softly, trying not to think of his father. He uncurled the fists he hadn’t realised he was clenching. “I need a drink.”

“On it,” Shawna said, and there was a little rush of cold air filling the space as she popped out of sight.

She was back just as fast with glasses of something warming for all of them.

Len watched the steam rising from his glass, rolling it between his hands. “We’ve never ridden out with the Wild Hunt at May Day,” he mused.

Mardon laughed. “What does it matter? We lose the battle every Midsummer. Have done for a thousand years.”

“It _matters_ ,” Len said, “because now anything could happen.” He stretched out his legs and smirked at his crew, raising a finger at them slowly.

Piper yawned. “Cold, if you’re about to speechify, I’m leaving.”

“Shut up, Piper.” Len paused, his finger frozen in the air. “The Wild Hunt rides out every Midwinter, and we lose, and Summer wins the right to rule the world, from the first thaw after that. And then we ride out again at Midsummer, and, surprise, we win the right to rule the coming Winter. But what if it wasn’t always like that?”

Mardon rolled his eyes. “Of course it was always like that. Winter wouldn’t come if we didn’t ride out in the height of Summer, and Summer wouldn’t come back if we didn’t lose in the depths of Winter.”

He turned to raise an eyebrow at Mardon. “You’re the one who knows the weather. When do the frosts begin?”

Mardon paused.

Len nodded slowly. “You ever see a Winter that actually started on Midsummer’s Day, Mardon? If it did, they wouldn’t call it Mid _summer_.”

Shawna blinked. “You think he’s lied to us.”

Len twirled long fingers around each other in his lap. “I think the Sun King and the Winter King made a deal to share the world, a long time ago,” he said slowly. “But not that young man who’s won my sister’s heart. Maybe his father.” He stared up into overcast skies, snow falling, settling on top of snow.

If things weren’t meant to be like this... If Lisa could win the heart of the Summer Sun... Then maybe...

Piper jumped up. “Could you stop that?”

Len looked down. The ground beneath him, where he was resting his weight on his hands, was icing over.

Of course Len couldn’t have a Summer boy with fire in his eyes. All Cold ever brought to the world was death.

“Stop thinking about it,” Shawna said, gently but firmly. “One of us has never loved one of them.”

He felt his face crease into a frown. “Lisa loves the Sun King.”

“Yeah,” Mardon griped, “and that could end the world. You wanna bring that about faster, Cold?” He glared, storm clouds forming over his head. “Your father’s doing that quick enough already.”

Len didn’t answer.

Shawna slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “What would you _do_ with one of them, anyway? Summer’s children are all bright sunshine and fire. You wanna help rule a world where everything burns? That’s all summer does, in the end.”

Len looked out across the still garden, shrouded in snow, and didn’t answer.

* * *

On the eve of May Day, Len waited until his father was deep in sleep. Then he called on the Rogues, and rode out at the front of the Wild Hunt. Again.

“This is nuts,” Shawna offered, as they rode off, in her usual helpful way. “This isn’t the way things are supposed to _be_.”

He didn’t argue.

They were galloping towards the battlefield, closing in on the Summer troops, when they heard him. Lewis’s hunting horn was sounding in the distance. His father was closing in on them. 

“Boss,” Shawna hissed at him, raising a finger into the darkening sky. “Look.”

On his winged, ghostly horse, the Winter King was riding through the skies after them, grave eyes flashing red.

Len balked, turning a desperate look on Shawna. “You take the Wild Hunt on ahead. I’ll slow him down.”

Her eyes widened. “And what will the Hunt do without a leader?”

He threw her the royal standard, and she caught the flagpole in her hand. “You’re in charge,” he said. He nodded to the Rogues, riding in formation behind her. “ _Don’t_ lose Lisa.” 

“You got it, boss,” she said, looking up at the land ahead of them. They were nearing the border between the Winter and Summer kingdoms. The frosts were melting. “If you end up in the Sun King’s realm, don’t get off your horse,” she warned.

“I know. Go!” 

There was a thunder of ghostly hooves, and they were gone.

“Think you can get in the way of my right to kill him for taking my daughter away, _boy_?”

Len turned his horse around to face his father. “What are you planning, old man?” 

Lewis smiled a mouthful of yellowing teeth at his son. “I got deals to make. He loves Lisa so much, he can have her.”

“What—” And then, eyes widening, he felt his brain catch up.

Lewis was going to sell his daughter to the Sun King in exchange for the whole world. The bastard thought he could negotiate to rule eternal Winter. But surely the Sun King, young though he still was, wasn’t that foolish.

Len thought back to the expression on Cisco’s face as he had looked at Lisa.

“He won’t give you the world,” Len said, and hoped it was true. 

The King raised his hunting bow at Len. “Not if you get in the way, son, he won’t.” Lewis nodded towards the border between the Winter and Summer kingdoms. “So you’re gonna leave.”

Though the Winter kingdom was in the underworld, and the Summer kingdom above the world, the two kingdoms still met at a magical border between them. Len could hear the rush of a melting river, not far away. He could feel the air turning painfully warm. He shook his head at his father. “You can’t send me out there. It’s Summer there. I’ll die.”

Lewis shrugged. “Not my problem. I got a new treaty to get to negotiating.” Raising his bow in Len’s direction, he drew it back.

Len didn’t wait to find out if his father was going to shoot. He tugged hard on his horse’s reins and rode towards the sun.

* * *

Len’s horse was stumbling beneath him. The horses of the Wild Hunt were undead and used to cold winds and snow, not this creeping spring warmth.

Nearly a day had passed, and he was lost on the edge of Summer.

Len should have been worrying about survival. But he couldn’t look away from the flowers, the running water, the green carpet across the land. It was enchanting, even if he had to fight for every breath of warm air he took. 

His horse whinnied. “Guess you need to stop, huh, Snowflake?” Len patted the horse’s side. The black horse, whose name had been Lisa’s ironic choice, missed its footing again.

Len glanced down at the ground.

They told stories, in the Winter court, of people who rode out with the Wild Hunt and stepped down from their horses in the Summer kingdom. They aged a thousand years and turned to dust the moment their feet hit their ground.

But Len was doubting the old myths more and more.

He swung his feet across his horse, and paused a second. Then, sending up a silent prayer to Arianrhod, he reached down a hand. His powers warring with the deadly heat shimmering around him, he froze the ground.

He collapsed onto the sheet of ice. He lay there for a few minutes before it occurred to him that he had not, in fact, turned to dust. But it was getting harder to breathe, and the ice was already melting beneath him.

Galloping hooves were approaching. It could only be a warrior of the Sun King’s court, coming to kill him for breaching their borders.

Too exhausted to move, Len closed his eyes and waited for death.

A moment later, there was a light, gentle hand on his shoulder.

He flinched away as the hand burned him.

“Oh. Sorry,” said a gruff voice. Len opened his eyes and looked up.

The man with the fire in his eyes was smiling down at him, and it was the most beautiful smile Len had ever seen.

“It’s you. Cold. So you didn’t turn to dust, huh?”

“Nope. Guess now I know how my sister’s surviving in your kingdom,” Len croaked.

Mick was looking around. “We gotta get you out of the heat. Don’t worry, I know a place.”

* * *

Len must have passed out, because it felt like only a minute later that he opened his eyes to find himself in a cool, dark cave. His horse was tied up in the entrance, but otherwise Len was alone.

Huh.

Then he frowned. Was that _singing_ , just outside? He strained to listen.

 _As_ _I_ _was_ _a_ - _walking_ _one_ _morning_ _in_ _May_  
_I_ _spied_ _a_ _young_ _couple_ _a_ - _making_ _of_ _hay_  
_Oh_ , _one_ _was_ _a_ _fair_ _maid_ _and_ _her_ _beauty_ _shone_ _clear_  
_And_ _one_ _was_ _a_ _soldier_ , _a_ _bold_ _grenadier_ …

It wasn’t like Len had never heard music before. There was a man on his own crew who could put the world into a trance with a few notes from a magic pipe. But the music in the Winter kingdom was all about sleep and death. This was spring music, full of life and love—even when sung by someone who clearly couldn’t hold a tune. Len snorted.

Mick stuck his head into the cave. “Oh, you’re awake. What’s funny?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Hey, you got any food?”

“About to make you some,” Mick said, and disappeared back outside. “Figured you wouldn’t want a fire in that cave,” he called back.

Len sat up slowly, frowning. “Um. Listen, it’s not that I’m not grateful, but I don’t understand. Why is a servant of the Sun King helping me out? We’re cosmic rivals. We’re supposed to fight each other.”

“You think I’m a—” Mick poked his head back in and let out a hearty laugh, as though Len had said the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “I ain’t a servant. I ain’t just some _fae_.” He puffed out his chest. “I’m the Sun King’s cousin. I’m a Summer god, same as you’re a Winter god.” 

Len felt confused eyebrows raising. “But... what do you _do_?”

Mick raised a beckoning finger. “Can you handle the air outside for a sec? I’ll show you.”

Curiosity overcame him, and Len started to crawl to his feet. “Oof,” Mick said, running over and grabbing him under the arm. “Lemme help.”

“I’m fine.”

“You really ain’t. You weren’t made to survive here.” Mick led him out to where a pile of sticks and logs was waiting. He grinned at Len. “Okay. Watch.” Reaching out a hand, he let it hover over the logs. They burst into flame, bright oranges and reds like Len had never seen before. He took a startled step back.

“I’m Fire,” Mick said, eyes wide with pride. “All the fire in the world starts with me.”

“Huh,” Len said. The god’s fire was radiant, bright enough to hurt his eyes, and nearly as beautiful as the man who made it. “We have fires in the great hall of the Winter court. They’re not as… bright as this, though.”

“‘Course you do. There’s always a bit of Summer in Winter, or you’d never survive. Even you chilly folks.”

Mick was threading fish onto a spit over the fire, and Len wondered if he’d caught it himself. The guy was a survivor. Len liked that.

“Hungry?”

Len nodded. “Thanks.”

The Fire god paused in his work, glancing up at Len with the hint of a smile. “So, since we’re sharing… I know they call you Cold, but that’s about all I know. What do you do?” 

Len grinned. “Name’s pretty descriptive.” He reached out a hand, picked out a nearby rock, and covered it with a frozen sheen.

Mick stood up, hands raised. “Woah. _Woah_. What is that?” 

“Ice,” Len said, smirking at him. 

“I ain’t never seen nothing like that.” He was shaking his head, eyes full of awe.

“That’s because, for the six months when I do this to the world, you and your family hide away in a magical kingdom where it’s always Summer.” He grinned at Mick’s expression, as the Fire god kept staring at the ice-covered rock. “Probably for the best, if you’re gonna react like that to a little ice.” He gave Mick’s shoulder a playful shove.

Mick shoved him back, still shaking his head. “Not this year. I wanna see the world in Winter.” He turned his shy, awe-filled stare on Len. “Will you show me?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Len sighed, leaning back against the outer wall of the cave. “My father’s riding out to negotiate with your cousin. If he gets his way—and he always does—he’ll be ruling the world a lot longer than six months. I doubt there’ll be much of a world left soon for me to cover in ice.”

Mick was finishing up at the fire. He laid a gloved hand on Len’s shoulder. “Go back inside. You’re gonna fry faster than this fish. I’ll be in with the food in a sec.”

He withdrew his hand, and Len felt his eyebrows drawing together. He was sure that was supposed to burn, a god of fire touching a god of ice. Just a hour ago, it had. Now Len was just left unexpectedly sad that Mick wasn’t touching him anymore.

Len had never liked anyone’s touch—not even his sister’s. The feeling was mutual. He couldn’t risk turning his sister to ice, and she had to avoid the peril of turning her brother to gold.

Mick was different. They balanced each other out.

Back in the cave, an hour later, over a plate of roasted fish, Len was feeling almost alive again. He smiled at Mick in sincere thanks.

And when Mick laid a bare, ruddy hand over Len’s pale one and smiled back at him, it felt like Len’s cold heart was melting. 

“So, boss,” Mick said. “Can I call you boss?” 

“Uh. Yes?” answered Len, who already had too many nicknames.

“Good. So, I got a plan, boss.”

* * *

Len laid back on the cool floor of the cave. He glanced over at Mick, who was leaning up on his elbow, gazing at Len like he’d never seen anything like him. “And you wouldn’t consider a plan that was a bit less…”

“Yeah?”

“Hot-headed,” Len finished.

Mick grinned. “And where has being all cool and calculated ever got you?” 

Raising his eyebrows at him, Len chuckled. “I’ll have you know I’m well known for managing my kingdom with ruthless efficiency.”

“Look,” Mick said, reaching out his hand towards Len, then seeming to think better of it. “Your father sounds like he leans more towards the ‘ruthless’ part of that, with less of the ‘efficient’. You think he’s not gonna take whatever he wants and crush you?”

Len sat up, eyes wide. “I’m his son.”

“You telling me he never threatened to kill you or your sister? And meant it?” 

Len lay back down again.

Eyes narrowing, Mick scratched with a stick in the thin layer of dirt covering the cave floor. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. He sent you out here to die, didn’t he?”

Len was silent.

Mick grabbed Len’s hand. “We can do this. Together.” He smiled that warm smile that melted Len’s heart again. “You just gotta think a bit less like ice, and a bit more like fire.”

Len stared at his hand, drowning in Mick’s bigger one, scarred by old flames where it narrowed and disappeared beneath his tunic. “I don’t know how to do that.”

Squeezing his hand, Mick just said, “Trust me.”

* * *

Approaching the Wild Hunt, Len could see his father was at the center of the battle, sword clashing with Cisco’s. 

“Just follow the plan,” Mick called out, over the thunder of hooves.

Len galloped towards the battle, watching in horror as the Winter King raised his sword to Cisco’s throat.

“Stop,” he pleaded, nearing them. “You can’t kill him. It’ll end the world!”

Lewis didn’t look away from the Sun King. “Or it’ll bring permanent winter. I’m willing to risk it.” He turned his head to glare at his son. “I’ll cut out his heart and feed it to her,” he hissed.

Len could only spare Lisa a momentary glance. She was sitting, unmoving, on Cisco’s horse. An ice statue.

And then Len saw a Rogue in the crowd of battle. And another, and another. Woven across the battlefield, hidden in plain sight and waiting for his signal.

“Mardon,” Len called out. 

Mardon raised his hands and a storm began to rage around them. Several Summer riders drew back, soaked with cold rain, their horses rearing up in fear.

“Now, Piper,” Len yelled, riding closer.

The green-cloaked man lifted the pipe to his lips. A dozen more Summer riders dropped from their horses to the ground, asleep.

“Rosa!” he yelled to the yellow-haired fae, who laughed and skipped in, spinning and spinning. A hundred more of Summer’s army screamed and fell to the ground, clutching their heads.

And now just enough of them were down to give Cold a chance. And that made it time for—“Shawna!”

“Hey, boss,” she said with a grin, appearing next to him. He dismounted and grabbed her hand. They reappeared at the centre of the battle.

“ENOUGH!” Len yelled.

Mardon, Rosa and Piper froze. The storm dropped. The fallen warriors stood up and the sleeping riders roused slowly, confusion still slowing them all down, just enough.

“Bivolo,” Len called out. Shawna disappeared again, reappearing with a hand on Bivolo’s shoulder. Ahead of Len, his father had his sword at the Sun King’s throat. “Shut him down,” he ordered. 

Len had been ignoring his father’s roaring rage behind him, but his heart was beating out of his chest. He was waiting for the ice to descend around him, any second now—maybe permanently. But it never came. Len raised his hand and a wall of ice came up between him and his father. “Now, Raider,” he said to Bivolo, who stepped around the wall, his eyes flashing blue. 

The Winter King dropped his sword. “What was I...” he muttered, turning away.

“Forgetfulness. Added bonus of confusion.” Bivolo bowed to Cold, fading back into the crowd.

Len took the opportunity to call out to the armorers. More loyal to Cold than to their king, they clapped his father in chains.

“Help her,” Cold said to the stunned Sun King, nodding at Lisa.

Cisco turned to his horse, approaching Lisa and laying a soft hand on her frozen arm. The ice melted, collecting in a little puddle of harmless water beneath her.

Len went to his sister. They could all wait while he made sure she was recovered. He was in charge now.

When he was sure Lisa wasn’t in danger, he risked a smirk at the Sun King, under raised brows of triumph. “Now,” he said. “Let’s have a chat, shall we?”

“Uh,” said the Sun King. “That sounds… good?”

Cold’s eyes narrowed at him. “A long time ago, your father met mine on the earth, far from the magical kingdoms, and negotiated a treaty. I propose we make a new agreement there. One that allows you to keep your intended bride. And...” He indicated Mick with a smile and a nod, and the Fire god returned both. “One that allows me to keep him.”

At the mention of marriage to Lisa, Cisco beamed. “Excellent idea! Except—” he nodded at Lisa, still on his horse above them, and Mick. “Nothing without their consent, okay? They come too.”

“Sounds good,” Len agreed, catching the Fire god’s eye, getting another shy smile in return.

* * *

The Sun King was looking at Cold like he had lost his mind.

They were seated on the forest floor. This ancient ash forest in the human world was neutral space, in neither the upper kingdom of Summer nor the underworld of Winter.

“Explain it again,” Cisco said. He was shaking his head, but his eyes were hopeful.

“A hostage exchange, if you will,” Cold said. “But a mutually willing one. When Lisa goes to be with her husband for the Summer, the Fire god comes to be with me in the Winter kingdom.” He smiled at Mick, seated some distance away with Lisa. Mick smiled back, and Len’s breath caught. Cisco might have been the Sun King—but when Mick looked at Len, it was like the world had burst into Spring.

A smile was slowly lighting up the Sun King’s face. “A little bit of Summer comes to Winter, and a little bit of Winter goes to Summer.” He reached out to clap Len on the back, who moved wisely away and just nodded at him. “Yes. Yes! That could keep the balance in the world.”

Len raised an eyebrow. “Guess we’d better try it and see.”

Cisco looked between them. “Well, then there’s only one thing for it,” he said to Cold, and beckoned Mick over. “You’re gonna have to marry him.”

“I can live with that,” Mick said, folding his legs under him.

Len flashed him a grin. “But,” he said firmly to Cisco, “no more meeting at Midsummer and Midwinter. _He_ did that.” Len twisted around to glare at his father, in chains on the ground nearby. “It was a deal to get a full six months of Winter, wasn’t it? And he was trying to stretch it longer and longer.” Lewis scowled, but didn’t contradict him.

“I think so,” Cisco said. “And this sounds… possible,” He stood up, offering Len his hand. “But we should go and consult our courts.”

Cold raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t do anything without the consent of my people,” Cisco said, frowning. “How do _you_ rule?”

Cold glanced at his father again, but said nothing.

* * *

“Here’s how it’s gonna go,” Len said, addressing the Winter riders, seated on their black mares under the ice-blue royal standard. “Every Spring, at first thaw, we ride out with the Wild Hunt to meet the Sun King. We make an exchange. Lisa goes to the Sun King. Fire comes to me. At the first frost in Autumn, we ride out again. Lisa comes home with me for the Winter. Mick goes home with them.” He cast a shrewd eye across both sides of the battle, the Summer riders on their shining white horses, and the Wild Hunt on their ghostly black mares. “Do I hear any objections?”

“Uh, yeah,” King Lewis croaked, from where he stood chained between two huge Summer court guards, his eyes flashing red with anger. “Who the hell is gonna rule Winter?” 

Len barely spared him a glance. “That would be me.”

“This is a coup!” Lewis roared.

Len raised his eyes to his troops. “Is there anyone among you, god or fae, who still calls him King?”

Silence.

 _Now_ Len spared his father a look. A triumphant one. 

The battlefield exploded with noise, hunting horns and cheers from Summer and Winter riders alike.

“Mmm,” Lisa said with a brilliant smile, a flash of ice and gold. “I think they just decided that Cold is their King.” Len met her eyes with a smirk and a nod of thanks.

He turned to Mick and held out a hand. “Do you agree, Fire? Want to come to the Winter kingdom and see what the world looks like under snow and ice?”

Wide-eyed, Mick grinned and grasped his hand back. “You bet I do.”

Len tilted his head apologetically. “Means you’re gonna have to spend the Summers in a place that’s always Winter.”

“I can do my Fire thing from any of the magical kingdoms. And…” His smile turned shy again. “I get to spend ‘em with you. No complaints here.”

And, from that day to this, every Spring, the most beautiful woman in creation leaves the underworld and rides out with the Wild Hunt to meet her husband, the Sun King, who takes her away to his Summer kingdom. And the world celebrates, bursting into life. And every Autumn, at the first frost, the most beautiful woman in creation rides home to the underworld, and the world mourns her loss and falls into Winter.

And while her brother the Winter King is always pleased to see her return, for they have important work to do together, he mourns his own loss while she’s ruling Winter by his side.

When he gains his sister back for the Winter, he loses his Fire god.

And when he loses her for the Summer, Mick returns to him.

Which brings us to this year. It’s Spring in the Ash Forest. Len and Lisa have left the Wild Hunt behind them and are heading to the oldest tree at its center. Here, where the trees grow dense and the forest darkens, brother and sister have dismounted and are walking to the center.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Lisa says, sighing.

It’s always like this. Lisa wishes she could have everything, all at once. But as soon as she sees the Sun King, she’ll forget her brother—at least, until the season changes. It’s the way things should be, for people who rule the changing seasons, Len thinks.

Len pokes her. “You’ll be busy with your beautiful king,” he teases.

Lisa pokes him right back. “Like you won’t be busy with your Fire god.” She laughs. “I hear he runs the Rogues even better than you did.”

“Well, someone’s gotta keep ‘em in line,” he shoots back with a grin. “And I’ll miss you too.”

He smiles at the signs of Spring around them, apple blossom bursting open on the trees, green grass and primroses carpeting the ground beneath their feet. He used to hate the signs of Spring on the earth. It signalled the time when he would have to start fighting his father to pull back his icy influence and let life return. But now Len just lets Spring take its course, as it wants to. It means his Fire is coming home.

And there they are, just up ahead, Fire and the Sun King. Cisco, who always pretends to be a stickler for protocol, is waiting for Lisa on his horse, but he can’t hide his smile when she winks at him.

“Hiii, Cisco,” she calls out… and then breaks into a run, kicking up dirt behind her. The mighty Sun King shrugs, jumps down, and sweeps her up in the kind of kiss that makes Len cough and turn his eyes politely to the ground. He really doesn’t need to see his sister making out with her boy toy. She’s got all Summer to do that.

He’s scuffing his shoe in a patch of melting snow when he hears a muted, “Hi.” If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the voice was a bit nervous.

He looks up, and there his Fire god is, as radiant as the day they met, years ago and not far away. Unlike the Sun King, Mick doesn’t give a rat’s ass about protocol, and he’s practically bouncing in front of Len.

“Ready to go?” Len asks.

Mick folds his arms over his chest. “Really, Len? Six months apart, and that’s the best hello you can manage?” He jabs his thumb behind him at the happy couple on the horse, who are still sucking face. “At least one of you Winter royalty knows how to greet the love of their freaking life. Seriously, it’s like you’re _made_ of ice.”

Len’s eyebrows are climbing up his head, which he tilts at Mick. “You done?” he asks, grinning.

“No,” Mick says, and leans in to kiss him. 

As kisses go, it’s a pretty spectacular one.

They wave goodbye to the Sun King and his wife, the hardest-working woman in the world, who manages to be both Winter and Summer Queen. Only Len’s fabulous sister could pull that off.

“Come on,” Len says. “The Wild Hunt’s waiting for us.”

“You mean they’re waiting for me.” Mick climbs up on Snowflake behind Len, arms clinging tight around his husband’s waist. “They always did like me better than you.”

“Only because you set things on fire, and they’re bored of ice.”

Mick laughs into his neck as they ride away. “Happy May Day, Len. It’s been a long Winter.” 

Len glances back at him with a smile. “Oh, I’ve got a feeling Summer will be even longer this year.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is loosely inspired by Welsh myths of the Wild Hunt.
> 
> Cast of characters:  
> Leonard Snart: Cold, Winter god and leader of the Wild Hunt (inspired by Gwyn ab Nudd)  
> Lewis Snart: his father, the Winter King (inspired by Nudd of the Silver Hand)*  
> Lisa Snart: his sister (inspired by Creiddylad)  
> Cisco Ramon: the Sun King (inspired by Gwythr)  
> Mick Rory: Fire god and courtier of the Sun King (not based on a mythic figure)
> 
> *I apologize to Nudd of the Silver Hand, a perfectly nice figure in mythology, for associating him with Lewis Snart!
> 
> Thanks so much to inthearmsoftheocean for beta reading and Thette for advice.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](https://sophiainspace.tumblr.com/), pillowfort or [twitter](https://twitter.com/SophiaCatherin5).


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